Before I met and married Z, my wife of 28 years, I was married to Sharon while I was in college and right after. While I was still in graduate school Sharon went to work for a local high tech company where she was a secretary to a top manager named Pete. Pete was almost 20 years older than we were and a very sophisticated guy, an executive at this important company (you'd recognize the name of it if I could risk putting it here).
I was consumed in my work as a graduate student in those days, but Sharon and I had some chance to do social things with her company, and with Pete in particular. I wanted to go into the industry Pete's company was in when I was done, so I thought Pete would be a good connection. Sharon, inevitably, became very interested in these outings, which were pretty high-end affairs, and I noticed she was more and more attentive, almost seductive, with Pete, who had a kind of casual way of making it seem natural.
To get to the point, it wasn't long before Pete was fucking Sharon, of course, which was hard for me to take, but probably aroused or confirmed in me a latent interest in the cuckold-type relationship, although I didn't realize it at the time. With Sharon that wasn't manifested, although when I found out Sharon was fucking him, it was hard not to notice I was as aroused as sad about it. But it wasn't long before Sharon announced she was going to leave me for Pete, with plans to get married.
The fact that it had happened was pretty common knowledge among my friends, and it was pretty humiliating to have everyone know Pete was fucking my wife, but it was still hard on me when she leftâlosing a spouse stings no matter what else is true. But because I didn't have to be around them after she moved out, I got over it and went on, finished my degree, and left the city within a year to start in the high tech industry (in another company). Pete and Sharon left soon after that when he got another job at a different company in another city. I kept track of them, mostly through announcements at his company and with once a year calls on her birthday and things like that. As it turns out, they never did get married because Pete was always fucking around with other women, and eventually Sharon got tired of that, but Sharon was with him all through the next two or three years. I got a little satisfaction from knowing from Sharon that things might not be going too well for them as a couple.
About a year after I finished grad school I met Z, and we got married and fairly quickly started real cuckolding, this time with my explicit consentâit was actually my ideaâfrom our first date. About a year after that, amazingly, Pete got hired as a Vice President by the company I was working for to replace my boss's boss. The only salvation in that situation, and the reason I didn't immediately quit, is that the timing of this was good in another wayâSharon had just left Pete for another man she had met and wasn't around, so Pete was sort of in the same boat I was.
Pete and I actually sort of became friendly over that shared humiliation in a jocular kind of way, but there was always this adversarial edge too. Pete met Z, of course, and Z was aware of the whole situation with Sharon and Pete because we had talked about all of that, and how it made me feel, very early on in our relationship.
Pete had a Christmas party at his house that year after he had been with the company for about nine months. Z and I went to the party with Z dressed to the nines, sexy in a black mid-calf silk dress with spaghetti straps. I could see that she hadn't worn a bra under itâher beautifully-formed nipples showed where they touched the silk in front. As we pulled up just past Pete's house to park down the street, she also let me know that she had on a garter belt and stockings instead of pantyhose, and that she had worn one of her nicest pair of underpants, teasing me with, "Unless you want me to take those off now." I just smiled and shook my head no. Z always wore her underpants over her garters so they could be pulled down whenever we wanted to, so she could flash in public, or let someone fuck her.
"Oh, well," she continued, and gave me one of her smiles, the kind that told me she had something on her mind, as I maneuvered into the parking spot. She often did this, engaging in a little flashing at parties, so I assumed that's what was in store for me that nightâit was the kind of thing she knew I likedâand even in this setting, with business colleagues, there was very little harm in it since, obviously, everyone would have had a little to drink and because Z had become very good at making such over exposure look kind of accidental. I was actually looking forward to it.
But as we walked up the street toward the sidewalk to Pete's house, things turned in a different direction. Z asked me, as we turned up the walk, "Am I a better fuck than Sharon was?"
That was an easy question. "Of course you areâamazingly better!" and it was true. Z is truly incredibleâthe best and wettest cunt in the world, the hottest fuck on earth.
She continued, more softly, as we proceeded up the long walk surrounded by a lovely garden, "It kind of hurts my feelings a little that Pete might think I'm second best to Sharonâthat you settled for me only because she left you for him."
"That's crazy!" I replied, genuinely surprised. "That was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me," I insisted. "If Sharon hadn't left me, I might not have met you at all."
"I know," Z answered, "but I don't think Pete would really understand that, or even believe it, do you? We were half way up the walk.
"Well, he'd be nuts to think that," I answered, assuming that would be the end of it.
Z was quiet for a second, but just as we reached the steps she followed with, "I can think of a way for him to know I'm better than Sharon."
"How?" I answered, but even as I said it I got that familiar feeling in my stomachâit had dawned on me just exactly how Pete might learn that Z was right, and I already knew that Z was very attuned to what would push my buttons. So I was half horrified and half aroused as I waited for her answer.
"Well," Z said, as we reached the landing in front of the door, "We could let Pete fuck me. Then he'd know for sure, wouldn't he?" And she squeezed my arm a little.
I had known it was coming, really, but hearing it out loud, I was aghast, my stomach hollow and my heart racing. But my cock had jumped to attention and I had to reach down and adjust myself to keep it from catching in an uncomfortable position. All I could think of was to try to buy a bit of time. "That may not be such a good idea," I told her. And even the part of me that was hard for it didn't think it was a good idea.